


i'll never soften my grip

by knox (booyouwhoran)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Captain Phasma is a Good Bro, M/M, betting pools, there are some Hutts, traitorous thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 11:37:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6422395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booyouwhoran/pseuds/knox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And this is how it starts, a pair of teeth biting down on Hux’s shoulder as large hands with elegant fingers grip his waist, pushing him back into the wall of the storage closet. </p><p>Except this isn't how it starts, not really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll never soften my grip

**Author's Note:**

> So pretty much @nereid-lilies and I were talking about our love of Phasma locking Kylo and Hux in a closet to win a bet about when they were going to hook up. This was supposed to be a thousand word crack about betting pools and I'm still not sure what happened (???). Also, shout out to her for naming Osgra Hutt, aka Oversized Slimy Green Reptilian Asshole. 
> 
> Warnings for implied sexual slavery (though none of the main characters are subject to it) and forced stripping (though the character in question does not get entirely naked). Read safe and let me know if I need to add any warnings!
> 
> Title from 'Oh No!' by Marina and the Diamonds, aka my ultimate Hux song.

 

And this is how it starts, a pair of teeth biting down on Hux’s shoulder as large hands with elegant fingers grip his waist, pushing him back into the wall of the storage closet. Something topples down from the top shelf, a bottle of grease perhaps, and Kylo releases his shoulder to mutter angrily in his ear.

 “You think too loud.”

 Hux responds by tugging on the fistful of dark hair he’s had wrapped around his fingers for the last five minutes.

 “You like it.”

 So, this is how it starts except it’s not, really.

 

Really it starts when he sees Ren for the first time with his mask off in that meeting with Snoke when Ren had somehow managed to succeed in another catastrophic failure, losing both the droid and the scavenger girl. So yes, Hux had been surprised by the ridiculously wide mouth, the soft lips and the gentle doe eyes. Gentle was not a word one commonly associated with Kylo Ren. In true Hux fashion, he had let himself absorb this new information almost instantaneously and the got on with what he did best – his job, which at the time had mostly been one upping Ren.

 It was only afterwards in the officer’s lounge after Phasma had gotten a few Corellian wines into him that he told her.

 “He looks like an infant in a wig,” he whined, Phasma nodding sagely. “I mean, it’s no wonder he wears the mask. No one would ever take him seriously.”

 “So, the real problem here is that Kylo Ren, the most annoying thing on this vessel since that rogue rapthor who ate three legions of troops, is pretty.”

 Hux found himself nodding in agreement until the full effect of her words sunk in.

 “Pretty? He’s not pretty, Phasma, I never said he was pretty, and frankly the notion of Kylo Ren being pretty is absurd and _not at all what I was implying_ ,” he sputtered.

 Phasma pinned him with her ‘ _I see your bullshit but you sign my credits so I won’t openly call you out on it’_ look.

 He sighed resignedly.

 “I should demote you, really”

“Nah, where would you be without me, General? Besides, Mitaka owes me twenty five credits. There’s been a betting pool about what Ren’s got on under the mask going since he boarded. Mitaka put down horrifically disfigured monkey man.”

Phasma patted his knee in what Hux assumed was supposed to be a comforting fashion, but which actually felt oddly threatening.

 

He strategically chose to ignore the First Order officially sanctioned pamphlet ‘Dangers of Fraternizing with your Co-Workers’ that had been slid under the door to his quarters the following morning.

 

So that was really how it started, and since he had seen Ren’s face, Hux was unable to stop thinking about it when they were together. In meetings, Hux found himself recounting the odd little moles scattered around Ren’s face like tiny suns. More than once, he caught himself wondering whether they were scattered all over his body like a tiny galaxy of Ren. But Hux did not have time for such petty musings, not when they were about to unleash his Super Weapon, his Starkiller. He would deal with these thoughts about Ren when the First Order was in rightful command of the universe.

 

And then, Starkiller base goes to shit.

 

Hux finds himself searching through the snow on a crumbling planet as his legacy, his plans fall away like dust. He could just leave Ren, he knows. Pretend he couldn’t get there in time. But truth be told, the thought of facing Snoke alone scares Hux half to death. This is what he focuses on when the little voice inside his head tells him _you would never see Ren’s face again_. And Hux can’t deny himself that small pleasure in this mess, not really.

 

So he finds Kylo Ren in the snow, bloodied and unconscious, and for some reason has the strangest urge to trace his fingers down that awful gash for a second. _A shame_ , except it’s not really a shame. If anything, it has made Kylo more beautiful, made him look like an angry, vengeful god. Hux isn’t quite sure when his inner monologue decided Kylo was beautiful. So he hauls his sorry counterpart’s blood streaked and damaged ass back to the small ship that will return them to the Finalizer and doesn’t think about Kylo Ren.

 

He doesn’t see Kylo for a week after that. They have been confined to this ship while the Finalizer is stationed on the Outer Rim, the remnants of the First Order trying to rebuild itself. There has been little word from Snoke, only that their presence on the Finalizer would be a distraction to the troops. The ship, an Upsilon class command shuttle called the Battalion, slightly larger than Kylo Ren’s own, is well enough but Hux still thinks of the Finalizer as _his_ , his glorious, gleaming vessel to command. He misses it, misses the large observation deck, misses his own quarters with their glass panelled wall allowing him to watch space as it floats by. Tantalising him, close enough to touch, a whole universe that would have been theirs. It does not do well for him to dwell on this slight, so he dwells on Ren instead.

 

It’s a small blessing that Phasma has been stationed to the Battalion. She had helped him lug Ren’s body to medical before the droids took over. If they had been different people, he thinks, she might have hugged him. Instead, they raid the ship’s meagre bar and get shitfaced. Mitaka is stationed on the ship too, as well as some other Lieutenants who Hux respects. There are far fewer stormtroopers here, only three squadrons under Phasma’s command. He surprises himself when he begins to remember certain soldier’s call numbers.

 

Perhaps being on a smaller ship does have its advantages. The crew is close, tightly knit. It feels almost…intimate, at least among the troops. On the Finalizer he would chastise these connections, but here he lets it slide, a sort of silent thankyou to these soldiers for not admonishing him in light of their failure. He is still, in their eyes, the General.

 

And so when Lieutenant Urr, a Twi’lek who rose up through First Order ranks astonishingly quickly, runs up to him out of breath while he is doing his rounds of the ship, Hux knows that there is only one explanation.

 

“Kylo Ren is awake.”

 

Urr looks surprised. “You already knew, sir?” She asks.

 

“Just a hunch.” And with that, Hux makes his way down to the medical bay, leaving the Lieutenant agape.

 

The twinge of annoyance Hux feels at being summoned for another one of Kylo Ren’s tantrums (which clearly haven’t been lessened in the face of his resounding defeat against the scavenger and the traitor) has developed into an outright rage by the time he comes across the wing. They have precious few medical droids on this ship, and he’ll be damned if he is going to let Ren waste resources.

 

Sure enough, Ren is standing in the middle of the ward looking slightly ridiculous in a med gown, swinging his damned lightsaber at the set of machines that had been keeping him stable. The bed is no longer a bed, but instead a pile of metal and foam that a cleaner droid keeps trying to clean up.

 

“Out,” Hux instructs the droids and the human medical nurse who had led him down here, explaining that once Ren had woken up he had Force choked the doctor on duty and refused to take any medication.

 

“Really, Ren? I would have thought that abysmal fight with the girl would have taught you that temper tantrums are no way to conduct yourself.”

 

Ren doesn’t answer, but stills. Hux counts this as a victory, though the lightsaber crackles ominously.

 

“Turn that thing off.”

 

To Hux’s surprise, Ren does.

 

He turns round slowly, and it takes all of Hux’s strength not to gasp. The scar has healed well but is still shocking, like a smear of blood on snow.

 

“I’m sorry. About Starkiller.”

 

This surprises Hux even more, and he is unsure what to reply. Maybe Ren is still jacked up on some pain medication? They stand in silence for a few more seconds.

 

“Have you made contact with Snoke yet?” Hux asks, unable to help the name coming out as a curse.

 

Kylo shakes his head and sinks to the floor elegantly somehow, long pale legs crossed as if he is in meditation.

 

“The Supreme Leader has been noticeably absent,” he sighs. He sounds weary, Hux notes. Hux remembers the shot to the side the other man received, and become abruptly aware of Kylo beginning to shiver. The med ward is cold, he appears to have damaged the temperature controls and he looks ridiculously pathetic in the thin cotton robe.

 

“Come on.”

 

Kylo looks up at Hux in surprise, but deigns to follow him quietly, still shivering. Hux rolls his eyes and shrugs off his greatcoat because really, it wouldn’t be very professional for the troops to see their fearsome leader in something that doesn’t even cover his ass. Kylo pauses for a second before pulling it on, wrapping it tightly around his body. They make their way through the ship in silence. It is late, and only a few troopers are on duty. Hux is grateful for this privacy, something they never would have been permitted to on the Finalizer.

 

Hux isn’t sure why he has chosen to lead Ren to his quarters, though he tells himself it’s because they have no designated room for him. Hux’s quarters are the largest and Ren is still his equal, technically. He should have just left Ren in the med bay, but something had stopped him. Ren had not looked like the fear inducing Master of the Knight of Ren. He had looked like a lost child, defeated and alone. _He looked like Ben Solo_. Hux immediately disregards the errant thought. There were few who knew of Ren’s background. Who Ren had once been was irrelevant now, anyway.

 

Once they are inside his quarters Hux busies himself looking for some clothes that will fit Ren, who insists on looming sullenly in the corner. They are of a similar height, though Ren is much broader than Hux. In fact, there is no way any of Hux’s shirts will fit him. He considers asking Phasma for a spare, but quickly disregards the idea. Sighing, he throws a pair of regulation black sweat pants at Ren who catches them easily. Hux averts his eyes as Ren changes, though he doesn’t miss the amused smirk the other man gives him.

 

“Do you have a laundry chute?” Ren’s voice has taken on its familiar rough edge. Hux points to it, still unwilling to face him. Ren can tell, he knows, and his amusement rolls off him in waves. Hux is beginning to mightily regret this decision.

 

He rubs a hand through his hair, sitting down on the edge of the bed and finally looking up. The track pants are slightly too short, leaving a centimetre of pale ankle exposed that feels oddly intimate. _Strange_ Hux thinks, considering Kylo Ren is standing half naked in his room. Strange that he should fixate on this one insignificant sliver of flesh which could belong to anyone. Perhaps that was the appeal. The material clings to thick thighs, and Hux is seriously regretting this decision as he lets his eyes graze over the low slung waist band. He follows the trail of dark hair up to Ren’s, well, impressive torso. Finally his eyes meet Ren’s, whose insufferable smirk hasn’t moved.

 

“Like what you see, General?” Ren’s use of his title is mocking.

 

Hux approaches him slowly, placing a hand on his hip. Ren’s breath hitches slightly, the façade wearing down. Then, he presses two fingers into the blaster wound at Ren’s side. He gasps in pain, almost doubled over. This time, it is Hux who smirks. “There should be a spare blanket in that cupboard there. The couch is all yours, _Lord Ren_.”

 

And with that, Hux undresses quickly and climbs into the comfortable queen size bed, laughing slightly at the hulking form of Kylo Ren curled up on his two seater couch.

 

When Hux wakes the next morning, Kylo is gone and so is his greatcoat. He finds Phasma in the mess hall, eating breakfast by herself.

 

“How’s Lord Tantrum,” she asks through a mouthful of porridge. He doesn’t have the energy to be disgusted.

 

“How’d you find out?” He asks, sipping his caf tiredly.

 

“Well, Mitaka was doing the early shift when he said he saw Ren leave your quarters. Wearing your greatcoat.” She tries to look indifferent but her excited eyes betray her. Hux groans, tempted to let his head fall on the table.

 

“He threw a tantrum and slept on my couch. That’s all.”

 

Phasma looks disappointed. “Whatever you say, General,” and Hux is reminded of the way Ren used his title last night, voice dripping with contempt and something else, something that makes Hux wants to shiver a little in his seat.

 

“Kylo Ren is a coat stealing menace and I am not attracted to him in the slightest.”

 

Phasma looks a little surprised at his outburst, but simply grabs her empty bowl and his empty cup.

 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

 

It’s been another week and Ren still hasn’t given Hux his coat back. Hux is miffed. It’s _cold_ , they’re in a system of ice planets not unlike the one where his Starkiller had been situated. They’re here on instruction from Snoke, though, so it seems their exile is at an end. They’ve been ordered to pick up supplies from a large smuggling family and Hux is happy to have a job once more, to prove that he deserves his ship, his position, his galaxy. He’s still cold though.

 

He hears whispers from the crew, whispers that Ren has not been seen out of his room in three days. His presence has taken on a phantom like quality, something to murmured about in hushed tones in the dead of night. (‘ _Have you seen Lord Ren?” “No, but I heard yelling from his chambers last night” “I thought I saw him yesterday, but it could have been a shadow”)_ If only they knew, Hux thinks, that Kylo Ren is little more than a scared child, burdened with inconceivable responsibility and unable to bear it. On the Finalizer, Kylo Ren had been something of a joke among the troops. (“ _Don’t mess up or Kylo Ren will destroy your work station”)_ His eccentricities were amusing instead of fearsome, his mask an absurdity. (“ _He’s just some wannabe Vader”)_

Curiously, the absence of the mask has inspired respect from the troops instead of thinly veiled distaste. Maybe, Hux thinks, it is his humanity that makes them fearful. The knowledge that Kylo Ren is one of them instead of some soulless droid.

 

Regardless, the Supreme Leader has requested that both he and Ren meet with the head of the family. It’s a menial task, one that could easily be done by a commander or Lieutenant. Snoke intends to humiliate, and Hux finds himself less and less sure of his command of the First Order. Surely both he and Ren would be better use if they were able to use their skills?

 

A sharp knock on his door shakes him out of these thoughts, and he looks at his watch in annoyance. It’s late, and he has been intending to finish going through these papers. Instead, he has once again slid into thought of Ren. He huffs, not bothering to pull boots on over his black socks. Without his greatcoat, he has resorted to wearing a large blue jumper over his dress uniform while in his room. He hates it, hates that it isn’t uniform, that it doesn’t match, but it’s warm. Sometimes, sacrifices must be made.

 

Anyway, the visitor is mostly likely the droid he requested bring him files on the smugglers they’re trading with. Hux has little like for the Hutts, is unsure why Snoke even wants to deal with those uncivilised, disgusting _things_. A task is a task, however, and Hux intends to excel.

 

When the door slides open, it is not the droid he had hoped for but instead Kylo Ren. Ren has clearly found more suitable attire than Hux’s sweatpants, cloaked in his familiar black robes. Hux feels profoundly naked in this ridiculous jumper and socks and he hates it, hates Ren for putting him in this position. There is something slung over Ren’s arm, and it takes him a second to figure out what it is.

 

“I see you’ve finally deigned to return my coat, Lord Ren.”

 

“I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold, General.”

 

They stand for a few seconds in a silence that isn’t awkward, but tense, before Ren hands over the coat. It has been washed, Hux notes with a little surprise.

 

“Thankyou, Ren”

 

This is uncharacteristic of Hux, and he notes with satisfaction how the corners of Ren’s ridiculous mouth lift lightly, as if against his will.

 

“Can I come in?” Ren asks. “I believe we should discuss this business with the Hutts”. He sneers at the name, and Hux remembers hearing some gossip, many years ago, about Jabba the Hutt and the then Princess Leia and her smuggler. He wonder how this must be for Ren, whether he feels any sense of loss. Ren is still standing in the doorway, eyes hard. “You think very loudly, General.”

 

Hux doesn’t deign this with a reply, but steps inside. Ren follows after a second. Now that he has been permitted to enter the room, the other man seems unsure of himself. Awkward, even. Hux laughs a little internally at the image – Master of the Knights of Ren, unsure how to respond to being invited into someone’s quarters. Ren scowls at him and sits down quickly on Hux’s favourite armchair. Hux wonders if he knew, somehow, and is doing this to spite him. He tries to think this loudly, and Ren chuckles. It is not an unpleasant sound, instead warm and throaty. Hux keeps this observation quiet. How frustrating, being forced to work with someone who can see inside his head.

 

“It doesn’t work like that.” Ren corrects him out loud. “The Force. That’s not how it works. I can’t just hear everyone’s thoughts. I can focus in on someone in interrogation, but it can be…hard. It’s easier with some people. Truth be told, I’m not exactly sure how it works.” He huffs a self deprecating breath. “Snoke…Supreme Leader hasn’t taught me that yet.”

 

“Why can you hear my thoughts, then?” Hux’s curiosity gets the better of him as he hands a glass of blue milk to Kylo. He’s not even sure if Sith are allowed to drink blue milk, but he is nothing if not an excellent host.

 

“M’ not a Sith. And like I said, I don’t know. Usually, I can feel low level emotions from people – anger, happiness stuff like that. But with you – there’s a sort of clarity. Like I said, you think loudly. I don’t know why, I don’t know how to stop it. You just do.” Kylo sounds tired, and Hux realises abruptly that he is too. All this talk of the Force, this business with Hutts, Kylo himself are tiring.

 

“Come on, tell me what you know of the Hutts. They aren’t Force users are they?”

 

Kylo laughs at this, properly. “Forgive me, General, but I have more of the Force in my little finger than the Hutts do in their entire lineage.” He waggles said finger, as if to make a point. “They’re powerful though. And smart – to an extent.”

He takes a breath before continuing, as if whatever he wants to say is painful.

 

“When I was Be- when I was a child my…father,” the word comes out as a choked gasp. Hux ignores it for both of their sakes. “My father was doing some business with them. Or maybe he was paying them back for something, I’m not sure – I don’t remember. My mother hadn’t wanted me to go with him, but I wanted to go and see these slug things that they had spoken about. I didn’t actually go inside, I just stayed on the ship, watching. Then dad, I mean, my father, came running back with Chewie – the wookie who shot me. He was being chased by this giant slug thing. I was terrified. Had nightmares for weeks. Afterwards, we laughed about it.”

 

Hux is not sure where to begin processing this information – the fact that Hutts can apparently move fast enough to chase a human being or Ren’s incalculable daddy issues. And Hux had thought that he had an odd childhood. Thankfully, he is prevented from having to respond by a knock on the door that he prays to any deity that will listen is a droid. For once, it seems, his prayers have been answered. He sends a silent thankyou to whatever Force ghost has taken pity on him, and returns to Ren with the files.

 

After the outburst, they work in a silence that is companionable, if not entirely comfortable. Every so often, one of them makes an observation or comment. It’s surprisingly easy to be in the other man’s presence. Hux had always considered Kylo to be a hindrance to his work. He now wonders whether their combined efforts could have been used more efficiently. Perhaps together, they could have stopped the destruction of Starkiller if Ren hadn’t been set on the ridiculous task of finding Skywalker.

 

“I must say, General, I have been surprised by these thoughts you’ve been having about the leadership of the First Order.”

 

Hux stiffens. He isn’t afraid of Kylo, not really, but he is afraid of Snoke though he tries to play it off as respect. The silence has taken a threatening turn and Hux forces himself to meet Ren’s eyes. A voice in his head that is not his own says ‘ _Me too’_. And it’s treasonous and wrong and counterintuitive to everything Hux has ever been taught. But maybe they’re right. Maybe Snoke’s command is not the best way to restore order to the galaxy. He can’t let himself think like that, though, not right now. They lapse back into their work for another half an hour before Kylo stretches. It is early morning, though Hux isn’t sure where the time went. Hux shows him to the door in silence. Too much has been said, and left unsaid, for him to fully take in.

 

“That jumper suits you, General.” And with that inane comment, Ren is gone and Hux ignores the heat rising on his face.

 

In the week between that odd night in Hux’s room and the meeting with Hutt, something has changed in Kylo Ren. Instead of locking himself in his room, he has taken an…interest in the ship. It is not uncommon to see him doing rounds not unlike Hux’s, sometimes stopping unsuspecting techs to ask them what they’re doing. Surprisingly, he does not intend to menace, instead he seems genuinely curious. It is even more common to see him at Hux’s side. Sometimes, they don’t even talk, though they seem to communicate somehow. They aren’t at each-others throats like they were on the Finalizer, though they have had several loud disagreements. Thankfully for the technicians, however, these haven’t resulted in the ship being torn apart.

 

In hindsight, this is probably how the betting pool started. When Phasma informs him that in the space of that week the entire crew was involved in a betting pool in regards to whether they were fucking or not, Hux isn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. That information comes much later though.

 

The touchdown on Nal Hutta is smooth, and Hux and Kylo are greeted by a human woman who instructs them to board a small ship to the city. This is the ship that will bring back the agreed supplies to the Battalion. Nal Hutta is cold, though not icy. In fact, it would be a very pleasant place if not for its inhabitants. There is green grass as far as the eye can see where they touch down, and Hux can see a large forest in the distant. When they reach the city, it is a stark contrast to the relative peace of the planet’s outskirts.

 

The capital is immensely busy, with individuals from all manner of species bustling about their day to day business. Hux wonders for a moment what it would be like to be anonymous in a city such as this, and Ren looks at him curiously. They are led through the city until they reach a more insalubrious quarter. Here, they begin receiving looks that they hadn’t in the main area of the city. For the first time, Hux is glad he was instructed to dress as a civilian. He is not General Hux, simply a low ranking officer. In fact, Hux can’t remember the last time he dressed like this, in the blue jumper again, a leather jacket of Phasma’s over the top and his usual slacks and boots.

 

And Ren, well, Ren looks magnificent. He too is a lowly officer. His long legs are encased in a pair of dark brown pants, a cream cotton shirt hanging loosely off his broad shoulders. Like Hux, he also has a jacket, though his is brown. Ren seems supremely uncomfortable in the attire, and Hux has been thinking so very loudly in the hopes that Ren will get the message before blowing their cover.

 

They ended up at a cantina, the unpleasant sort where a whole host of unsavoury practices take place. Now it is Hux’s turn to feel uncomfortable. He and Ren are alone apart from the woman, who leads them through the heart of the cantina to a large room.

 

In the centre, the most unsavoury creature Hux has ever seen is lounging on a pile of cushions. In front of it, a group of creatures in loincloths performs what can only be described as an erotic dance. The room is dark, lit only by candles, and the scent of sweat and something unpleasantly sharp fills the air. Hux can’t help the small shudder that passes through him when he realises what the dark shapes lining the room are – creatures, like the ones dancing, in collars and chains. Ren notices his disgust and bumps his arm lightly. They have a job to do, and they will do it together.

 

The slug creature, whom Hux presumes to be Osgra, the Hutt now at the centre of the smuggling family, looks over at the pair when the dance finishes. His gaze feels almost slimy, and Hux represses the urge to shudder again. Osgra beckons them over with one gnarled finger, and Ren and Hux approach with bowed heads after sharing a look.

 

“So, you are the pretty pieces Snoke has sent to receive supplies. How interesting.” Hux has to fight the urge to physically recoil at Osgra’s voice, which leaves the distinct impression of walking through a swamp. He almost wishes the thing didn’t speak their language, and that they were able to use a translator droid instead of having to actually converse with it.

 

“I trust you will find the supplies to your liking. Though, I am tempted to up the price,” it continues. Hux and Kylo glance at each other confusedly. _What does he mean?_ Hux thinks. _I can’t tell. Hutts are impervious the Force._ The only inclination of their conversation is Kylo’s slight grimace. Hutt watches them with beady, mud coloured eyes. Suddenly, he points a fleshy forearm at Kylo.

 

“You. Yes, you will do nicely in my collection.”

 

A pair of menacing looking blue aliens with horned browbones begin to approach Kylo as Hux puts on his best diplomatic tone (albeit one he doesn’t have to use often.)

 

“This was not part of the deal. If you require more payment, I’m sure we can arrange something. We are not short of funds.”

 

The thing chuckles, and Hux can feel Kylo’s rage rising. At this point in the mission it is pivotal that they don’t blow their cover and risk returning to Snoke empty handed. Hux racks his brain for a plan. After all, he wasn’t appointed General of the First Order for his good looks. Inside his head, Kylo chuckles a little, his rage still there but lessened slightly. The assistant they’d met with had told them they would finish transporting the cargo back to the Battalion at 1400 hours. It was currently ten minutes to. _If we can hold them off for ten minutes the ship will have the cargo._

 

The blue aliens are now behind Kylo, threatening to chain him.

 

“Wait!” Hux cries before they can act. “Surely, you want to inspect your…prize. This room is full of fine specimens. One human cannot compete with these other creatures.”

 

Kylo sends him a pointed glance, which Hux returns. _Go with it._

 

“The little one is right. Strip him.” Kylo looks horrified and Hux can’t stop the wave of possessiveness that surges through him. One of the aliens tries to grab Kylo’s jacket, and he grabs it’s wrist and mutters, “I can do it myself.”

 

Hux glances at his watch. _Eight minutes._ Kylo has begun to slowly undress, pulling off his jacket. Hux can’t help but watch as he carefully unbuttons the shirt. Hutt must catch Hux staring as it makes a noise akin to a whistle.

 

“I see why you are so defensive, little one. You would like him as your slave, yes?”

 

“What? The thought is preposterous. Sir.” Hux is stricken, both by the truth of the suggestion and the horror at the thought of having Kylo as his slave.

 

“Perhaps a matching set would be nice, your Highness,” a creature hisses from the darkness. Hux feels the pressure of a thousand eyes slowly turning to him. Kylo has paused in his undressing, still clad in his trousers. All at once, another set of blue creatures advances on Hux with a set of chains as Kylo swings around to kick one of the ones behind him in the knee. It goes down and he takes the other by surprise, knocking it in the side of the jaw. Meanwhile, Hux dives out of the way of the two aliens who jump, trying to restrain him. He sprints over to Kylo, tripping the alien, and grabs his hand. The cantina has erupted into chaos, and Osgra roars “Get them!” as they sprint out, blue creatures in hot pursuit.

 

Kylo is still half naked and Hux realises that he’s still holding onto the Knight’s hand. Instead of letting go, however, he pulls him into the daylight and towards a line of taxi speeders. Hux wrenches open the door and slams down two handfuls of credits.

“Get us to the planet’s outskirts.” When the driver hesitates, Hux yells “Now!” and they jump into ignition, a crowd of angry aliens clustered beneath them.

 

Kylo is sitting in the back seat slightly dazed.

 

“You can put the shirt back on now, Ren.”

 

“That was good thinking back there.”

 

Hux colours a little at the praise.

 

“You too. I didn’t think you could fight without your…sword.”

 

He gives the pilot the coordinates of their ship, and he touches down within a few minutes. Phasma is overseeing the troopers place the last of the boxes into the hold of the ships when Hux walks briskly over to her, Kylo lagging a little behind. She takes in Hux’s no doubt ragged appearance and Kylo’s lack of shirt and sighs.

 

“Do I even want to know?”

 

A trooper has stopped to gaze at Kylo Ren’s abdominals, which in turn has created to a domino effectd of troopers bumping into eachother as they stop to stare. Hux empathises with them, he really does.

 

“Hutt expected an…alternative form of payment,” he tell Phasma, trusting that she will understand his implication. “We need to get off this planet. Now,” he says more quietly, and Phasma nods.

 

“Alright troops!” She shouts. “Let’s go, we’ll be flying in three minutes.”

 

The Kylo Ren fanclub resumes their hurried stacking.

 

The man himself appears next to Hux, oddly silent and still shirtless. Hux sighs.

 

“Captain. Ren. If you need me, I’ll be in the bar.”

 

Later, Hux thinks that this was probably when the betting pool became a much more prominent feature of Battalion life. He, Ren and Phasma had never bothered to explain what actually happened with Hutt. He could see how their position may have looked compromising, to the troops. Never mind that he would never be openly caught…fraternising with another member of his crew. _Especially_ not in front of the troopers! But, Hux was unusually dense about the situation, and as such the swapping of credits, which had increased with alarming frequency, went unnoticed. He did, however, pick up on increase in work production whenever he and Ren were in command together. Pleased, he assumed it was because he and Ren had reached a point of mutual respect that resonated with the crew. He had no idea that it was because soldier JR-9875 had started a black market erotic fiction ring.

 

The day after they leave Nal Hutta, Hux and Ren receive a holo from Snoke informing them that they must drop off the supplies at another backwater planet. Later, Ren appears at Hux’s quarters and instead of knocking like a civilised human simply opens the door. Hux looks up in annoyance, he had just been about to retire for the night. As such, he is clad in black regulation nightclothes – a tank top and sweat pants. Ren is fully robed and Hux wonders idly whether he gets off on this, on bursting in on Hux when he’s out of uniform. Kylo quirks an eyebrow at this and collapses down on to the couch. They sit in silence for a few moments before Hux huffs out an irritated breath.

 

“Well, Ren? What is it? I was about to go to bed.”

 

“I can see that, General. I wish to discuss our plan for the drop off at Supreme Leader’s requested planet.”

 

Hux looks at him in confusion. “What do you mean? It’s a simple drop off mission, Ren. It should take no more than three hours.”

 

Ren sends him a meaningful look, and passes him a small note, while Hux looks incredulous. He gestures for Hux to open it. Ren’s handwriting is predictably terrible. It reads:

_I believe Snoke intends to dispose of you on this planet. Frame it as an industrial accident. It would be best if I handled the delivery._

Hux looks up at him, compartmentalising this new information. The fact that Snoke wants him dead is not a surprise. He failed the First Order. The fact that Ren wants to, to save him, or whatever this is, is a surprise. Though, as Hux considers this, perhaps it is not such a shock. The thought leaves him with an unusual warm feeling that juxtaposes the horror he knows he should be experiencing at Snoke’s desire to execute him.

 

Ren has been scribbling on another piece of paper. The sight of him, in all his grandeur, scribbling on a pad with a pen is both odd and amusing. Hux cannot find it within him to deny himself this small amusement even in light of what he has learned. Ren passes him the sheet.

 

_When the Supreme Leader first appeared in my head, I was just a child. Every thought was available to see, to mould. He knew that, and used my fear and anger to make me powerful. Our separation since Starkiller has lessened the connection, I think. He is powerful, but weakened. I catch glimpses of his thoughts sometimes, which is how I know of the plot. I am not sure how many of my thoughts he can see at present, though he seems to be aware of my ~~affection~~ respect for you, which is why he wants you dead. I believe I can shield some of my thoughts from him, though how many I do not know, which is why from now on I will try and refrain from appearing in your head. _

 

Hux’s mind is reeling, trying desperately to focus on one piece of information that isn’t the simple, crossed out word currently consuming his very being. He feels a large hand on his knee, and logs it into the secret compartment in his mind titled ‘Times I have touched Kylo Ren’. It is a pitifully short list – the touch of a bloodied scar, a hand on a warm hip, a desperate hand grab. This is the first time Kylo has initiated such a touch, and the implication is not lost on Hux. The atmosphere in the room, like it always seems to be with Kylo, feels laden with something, some secret promise, though of what Hux is unsure. He struggles to regain his composure under the heavy weight of the Knight’s stare.

 

 The sharp rap on the door prevents the half formed thoughts in Hux’s mind of  _touch_ , and more dangerously, _kiss_ , coming to fruition. Both he and Kylo jump up, and he rapidly opens the door as the rapping continues. It’s Phasma, breathing heavily through her helmet.

 

“Sir, there’s been some damage to wing three. An unforseen asteroid. The techs are working on it now, but they require your presence to oversee the repair.” She stops, noticing the two of them for the first time, both of their pale faces unusually coloured. “Am I interrupting something, Sirs?” and Hux can hear the smirk in her voice despite the alleged damage to the ship. Hux stares at her pointedly.

 

 “No, Captain. Lord Ren, do you wish to accompany me to wing four?” Ren nods impassively as Hux pulls on his boots and greatcoat.

 

The damage is minor, as Phasma had indicated, but Hux is glad she alerted him to the issue. He has come to think of the Battalion as his ship, and its upkeep is important to him. The techs have acted quickly, meaning there’s no need for them to stop on a planet to repair. He congratulates the Head Tech, and she nods in thanks.

 “Is that all, Captain?” He asks Phasma.

 

 “Actually, Sir, there was something else. If you could just follow me.”

 

Hux feels a twinge of annoyance. Between the interaction with Ren, who is still following him like a very sombre hound and the damage to the wing, Hux is more tired than he has been in a very long time. The three of them walk along a quiet corridor that Hux has only been down a few times. It is used by the cleaning droids and as such is usually eschewed by the crew to avoid being trampled by the droids. They stop in front of a door that, as Hux remembers, is a storage closet. He frowns at Phasma.

 

“What is the meaning of this, Captain?”

 

“We have reports of a radium leak. According to the First Order manual, the highest ranking officer has to inspect such a leak before we can clean it,” sheexplains apologetically. Hux sighs and pushes open the door. The closet is clean, and he ventures a little further inside to try and find this so called leak.

 

“Captain Phasma? There’s no leak in here. Your datapad must be damaged.” He calls out in annoyance. Suddenly, Hux feels a powerful force bowl him over from behind, and hears the slam of a door.

 

“Ouch,” Kylo moans from his position on top of Hux. Hux pushes him in irritation and stands up, brushing off his coat. The door is locked, and he bangs it angrily. “What did you do?” He commands Kylo, who is still sitting on the floor. His facetwists into one of irritation as he responds. “I didn’t do anything! She pushed me.”

Hux sighs and sits back down on the floor. He’s not sure what game Phasma is playing, and he doesn’t have the energy to acknowledge the most likely reason. He and Kylo sit in silence for a few minutes before Hux speaks up, against his will.

 

“Was it true, what you wrote? About your…feelings regarding me?”

 

Kylo doesn’t answer for what feels like an eternity, and Hux is unable to stop the rising panic consuming his body.

 

“It is.” His voice is grave, as though he has just uttered an order for execution instead of an admission of affection. Hux supposes that in truth, the two things aren’t much different.

 

“Do we have a plan? Regarding the drop off?” For some reason, it feels safe to voice these treasonous words in the dark of the closet. Hux has never been afraid of the dark, has always found it oddly soothing, a blanket for his worst thoughts.

 

“I will oversee the drop off. I’ve heard that there’s some sort of flu doing the rounds.”

 

Hux nods, in the past three days fifteen troopers have come down with a Huttese virus picked up on Nal Hutta. It’s not life threatening, but it’s enough to knock a man down for three days. It should work as an excuse for his absence.

 

“And then what, Lord Ren? You know that it’s not enough. He’ll find a way. He’ll use you, if he has to.”

 

The comment is made in Hux’s harshest tone, the one he uses for ordering executions of traitors. Because it’s true, he knows. Knows Snoke will find some way to kill him.

 

Somehow, Kylo has appeared in front of him, materialising like a ghost.

 

“That won’t happen, Hux. I won’t let him,” Ren’s voice is a little desperate, his breath warm on Hux’s cheek. He sounds like he did when their world collapsed in a mess of fire and ice. Like Ben, perhaps. This is the first time Ren has called him something other than General, and the way his voice cracks on ‘Hux’ is what does it. He grabs Kylo by his ridiculous ears and kisses him, hard. Kylo doesn’t respond for a few seconds and Hux runs his tongue over the other man’s bottom lip, eliciting a small gasp as Kylo begins to move. It’s messy and undignified and _warm_ , everything Hux has been taught he mustn’t be. It’s perfect, or as close to as he and Kylo are ever going to get.

 

Kylo pulls Hux into his lap and hurriedly pushes the greatcoat off his shoulders as Hux laughs into his mouth at the Knight’s urgency. They are a tangle of limbs and clothes, and Hux pulls Kylo up to stand in front of him, hands gripped in his hair. Kylo’s hands come to his bare waist, and though he is reluctant to stop their kissing, he pulls away slightly. Kylo looks confused, and a little hurt, until Hux runs a thumb against his bottom lip.

 

“Just wanted to look at you,” he murmurs softly, unHuxlike, and Kylo sinks teeth into his shoulder, biting down as if to hold onto him, to this one moment where nothing really matters.

 

The bottle of grease falls and Kylo chastises him. “You think too loud,” and Hux knows that he doesn’t mean it.

 

“You like it.”

The hand sliding down the back of his thigh indicates that he’s right.

 

Because Hux is all sharp lines and biting words, and Kylo is barely contained rage and heavy silence. They shouldn’t work but they do, and it’s enough, enough to make Hux want to direct this ship to some unknown planet, some unknown galaxy and start anew. He knows Phasma would follow him, knows this crew is more loyal to him than the First Order. He also knows that Kylo is hearing all this, these words that have the chance to either ruin them or make them whole.

 

“Hux, I’m still Snoke’s. I can’t…I can’t,” Kylo rasps hoarsely against his throat as they move together.

 

Hux pulls his hair, drags the slightly taller man’s head down until their eyes are level and whispers in his ear the most treasonous words of all. “No, Kylo. You’re _mine_.” And it’s that small admission that pushes them both over the edge, panting and clinging to one another. Kylo’s head is collapsed on his shoulder, and Hux pushes a few sweaty strands of hair out his eyes. They breathe together for a few seconds before Hux finds an old rag to clean them both off. They don’t need words to affirm the unspoken promise between them. The promise that they will come out of this the victors. Both of them slowly get dressed. Hux tries the door, which has now been unlocked. The corridor is clear, and Hux doesn’t have the energy to find Phasma and demote her right now (or thank her, he isn’t sure which). He leads Kylo to his quarters, and bites back a groan when he sees who’s patrolling outside.

 

“We could just go back to my quarters,” Ren suggests, but Hux knows that it’s much better to get this sort of thing over and done with quickly.

 

“Captain,” he calls, grabbing Kylo’s hand. She stops her loops and looks at them both, and Hux can already picture what her face is doing underneath the masks. “You are dismissed for the evening.” She nods once. “And Phasma? If you ever pull something like that again, you’ll be stuck on sanitation for the rest of your career.”

 

“Yes Sir. Of course, Sir. Now, if you’ll excuse me Sir, Mitaka owes me fifty credits.” And with that, she practically runs towards the officer lounge, already hollering for Mitaka.

 

“You know they have a betting pool,” Kylo muses, voice warm. “I’d heard a rumour,” Hux replies. They enter his room together, two parts of a whole, unstoppable power. They don’t have the future figured out, not yet, but Hux can feel in his bones that this is right. And he will do whatever it takes to stay in this golden light that Kylo brings, has pouring out of him from every crevice. _Maybe none of us are immune to the light,_ Hux thinks as Kylo cups his face with one ridiculously large hand. The look in his eyes suggests that he is not wrong.

 

So this is how it starts, unsure and trembling, every word laced with caution. But this is not how it ends.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come yell at me on tumblr @orgvnas


End file.
